


Prompt 16: I Need You To Know

by irrationalgame



Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [16]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: Comfortween prompts from https://hurtcomfortex.dreamwidth.org/22946.html16. I Need You To KnowConfessing deep secrets because of delirium or fear they won’t survive.Jimmy needs to tell Thomas something before it’s too late.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949317
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Prompt 16: I Need You To Know

“Thomas,” Jimmy said, his face pale, his usually immaculate hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, “if I don’t make it...”

“No,” Thomas cut him off, wiping Jimmy’s brow with a cool cloth, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I heard what Clarkson said,” Jimmy grabbed Thomas by the wrist, pulling him closer, “that _if_ I lasted the night, I’d _probably_ make it.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Thomas said. He could feel Jimmy’s fingers shaking against his wrist. “I thought you were asleep.”

“So don’t just tell me I’ll be alright,” Jimmy continued, “because I might not be.”

“I can’t think about that Jimmy,” Thomas said. He checked Jimmy’s temperature with the little glass thermometer - it was too high for comfort. Clarkson had been right about the infection then. Not much more anyone could do other than pray. 

“Sit with me,” Jimmy said and Thomas obliged, perching on the edge of the hospital bed. “Sort of funny that this bed’s comfier than mine.”

Thomas offered a tight smile.

“Let me get this out,” Jimmy said, “ _please_.”

“Alright,” Thomas nodded. He couldn’t look at Jimmy, at his dark eyes and his pallid face and his bloodless, trembling lips. Instead he stared at the curtain that had been drawn around Jimmy’s bed, at the floor, at the chart of notes Clarkson had clipped to the bed frame, at the spots of red drying on his own shirtsleeves,

“I’m full of regrets Thomas,” Jimmy started. “I regret how I’ve treated you, what a blind idiot I’ve been, how I’ve wasted time when we could’ve,” he stopped and bit back a sob.

“Don’t start that,” Thomas said, “or you’ll get me going and I won’t be able to stop.”

Jimmy nodded, his jaw clenched. “The thing is Thomas - I can’t die without sayin’ it,” he weakly squeezed Thomas’s hand with cold fingers, “and it probably selfish of me to say it and then leave you but...I love you.”

Thomas broke then, his hand flying over his eyes to hide his tears. “Jimmy,” he sniffed, “stop talking like you’re going to die. You’re **not**. I won’t let you.”

Jimmy forced a smile; “If only you could control such things.” Silence for a moment then; “Do you - I mean after everything you probably don’t still...”

“I do,” Thomas said, making sure to look at Jimmy then. “Of course I do.”

Jimmy just smiled, relieved, and Thomas had to fight back tears again. The held hands and sat quietly, Jimmy’s laboured breathing the only sound on the hushed hospital ward.

“It’d be an awful shame to die and to never have kissed you,” Jimmy mused, “bit of a waste really.”

“Then you’ll have to make it through this,” Thomas replied. “If you make it to the morning I’ll kiss you as many times as you want.”

Jimmy fell asleep not long after, his face still pained even when unconscious. Thomas sat and watched, wondering if the footman would ever wake up again. He cried, as quietly as possible, and prayed to anyone who might be listening. He hadn’t even prayed in the trenches.

Jimmy’s fever broke around three in the morning and kept steadily dropping after that. By dawn it was almost back to normal. And Jimmy was still hanging on.

Clarkson came in at six and was pleased.

“You’ve done well Barrow,” he said, “but you always had a knack for this. I wish I could’ve taken you on after the war.”

Thomas just nodded, too exhausted and anxious to care.

“He survived the surgery and you got him through the worst of it,” Clarkson continued, “he’s got a very good chance now.”

After Clarkson left, pulling the curtain closed behind him, Jimmy cracked one eye open and said; “How’s a bloke supposed to get any sleep with you two goin’ on?”

Thomas smiled; “Good morning.”

“Is it? I feel like shite.”

“You look like shite.”

Now it was Jimmy’s turn to smile. “Charmin’ bedside manner you’ve got.” Then; “I’m bloody parched, can I have a drink?”

Thomas fetched him some water and held up the glass so he could drink. Jimmy put both his hands over Thomas’s to steady the glass; they still trembled, but less than they had last night or through the god-awful day that had proceeded it.

It had been the worst twenty-four hours of Thomas’s life, and considering the life he’d had, that was really saying something.

After Jimmy had finished and Thomas had fussed over his pillows and his dressings, Jimmy said; “Sit here with me again, like last night.”

Thomas nodded and did as he was bid.

“Listen,” Jimmy started, “about last night...”

Thomas cut him off. “It’s alright Jimmy, forget it. You were feverish and - and delirious. You said things you didn’t mean and...”

“Shut up would you?” Jimmy interrupted. “I weren’t bloody delirious and I know what I said ‘cause I meant every word of it.”

Thomas blinked.

“I said I loved you, which I do. You said you love me too, which I’m assuming weren’t a lie?

Thomas nodded.

“And you said if I made it till morning you’d kiss me. So?” Jimmy finished.

“...So?” Thomas replied, quizzical.

“Bloody hell, catch up Thomas,” Jimmy said and tried to adjust his position against the pillows. He winced, his hand going to his bandaged stomach, “Ow, _shite_.”

“Here, let me,” Thomas said and leaned in to hoist Jimmy up, but Jimmy caught him by the front of his shirt and kissed him instead.

Thomas only hesitated for a moment before his hands came up to clutch Jimmy desperately. After a moment they broke apart just enough for Jimmy to be able to say; “You owed me that. And I’m _sure_ you said I could have as many kisses as I wanted, if I stayed alive.”

“I did.”

“Then you better kiss me again.”

And Thomas did.


End file.
